


Campfire Chat

by LocalAngelTracker, Mo-hot-ve (LocalAngelTracker)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Child Soldiers TW, Gen, One Shot, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalAngelTracker/pseuds/LocalAngelTracker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalAngelTracker/pseuds/Mo-hot-ve
Summary: A small snippet of legion life for the more disposable of the faction. The weight of training a future scout lies on the shoulders of one not much older himself. They have to  find ways to cope somehow with their far too short lives.
Kudos: 6





	Campfire Chat

**Author's Note:**

> For Vinny. Love you, dude.

They keep their fire low that night, trying not to give off any sign of life out in the desert. There was more than just the NCR that the small huddled camp of scouts had to worry about. They had seen signs of geckos near the cliffs they had passed a few hours back, no doubt nesting in old mines. It was a distance sure, but geckos fed lots of bigger meaner creatures too. Creatures with wider wandering ranges. In the more human side of things they were also fair game for raiders, more than likely brave Vipers thinking they could send a message with a decimated camp. 

There were 4 of them, a large group for scouts, but they were training the youngest amongst them of how to survive in ways that the basic training regiment didn’t teach. How to blend in, how to survive on things that were explicitly forbidden by their rules. There were perks to being the most disposable unit of the legion. People didn’t watch you as hard as they did others. The only real danger was completely devoted snitches but the unspoken pact amongst most of the rest kept the rats in line. Those that wouldn’t comply usually didn’t come back. 

Titus, the oldest of the group at 19, is leading the instructions while one of the others hands out bowls of old world beans mixed with some of their vegetable rations for taste. “Repeat after me, I’m john, my ma was from the north. I’m looking for work” he says to the boy seated next to him. 

Hadrian, the boy in question, scrunches you his face at the order. “What kind of name is John? It sounds boring. Why can’t I just make up something better or go by my own name?” He’s only 15, so Titus does his best to be patient. The boy had just finished his training after all, he didn’t know better.

“Never use your real name, even with others you think are apart of us. People will know who you are and they’ll kill you.” It’s a serious warning “Besides, the others out there eat names like that up. Stuff that reminds them of the old world. Why do you think New Vegas was built? Everyone can trust a John or a Harold or a Jesse. No one likes a name that ends in ‘us’ or reminds them of something they can’t put their finger on. Our names just don’t fit with what they think the world should look like.”

Hadrian turns his head towards the fire, rolling his eyes when he thinks Titus can’t see. It all seemed silly and superstitious to him. “Where do you even get that sort of thing?” He asks before digging into his bowl. “Can I have a sarsaparilla? I know Cerus has more in his bag.”

Titus sighs, shaking his head “I get them from reading books and no you can’t. Its bad before you sleep. Tomorrow.”

“You’re not my decanus” the boy grumbles. “You can’t tell me what to do” but he doesn’t argue further. They settle into silence for a while before Hadrian pipes up again “so....how do you read? It’s forbidden but....I guess we don’t really count do we?”

“If we had enough time I would teach you but we’ve only got three days to get to the sharecropper farm and back.”

“Titus, common. Can’t hurt. He’s gonna need to know anyway” it’s Cerus who speaks up. Cerus had been babying Hadrian since they had been handed him by some over worked exhausted decanus at Nelson. He was always so soft. It’d get him killed someday. But Titus tolerates it, even when he knows he shouldn’t. 

He sighs, pretending to mull it over for a long while before pulling his pack over to dig through. He pulls out sheets of ragged and burnt papers from the pack, shifting through them. “This is a good place to start. You’ll find these all over, usually in terrible condition, but if they’ve got pictures it’s a beginning. See? This one is soap on the picture, so you know the words are about soap.” He runs his fingers under the words and reads them out. “Margaret‘s Old Fashioned Clothing Saver. Miracle soap that can save anything in any type of machine. Add one scoop to brighten your wardrobe.” 

One by one Hadrian makes Titus read through each page. Some are advertisements. Some are bits of comic pages. Some don’t have pictures at all but Hadrian seems happy enough. “We’ll work on letters and sounding it out right? That’s what I need as long as I’ve got pictures?” He asks. “Just like learning a new language but on paper in squiggles instead.”

“Something like that. And sure, but not tonight. You need sleep” Hadrian starts to whine and Titus cuts him off at the quick. “Don’t start. You need the rest. Tomorrow is a 13 mile trek and I don’t want to hear about your feet.” He doesn’t mean to be such a buzz kill but someone has to look out for the kid. At least the reassuring smile from Cerus means he isn’t doing too bad. He needed that smile. Bad enough that he decides not to bring up that he saw the soda being slipped into Hadrian’s bag.


End file.
